


We May

by Anysia



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Play, Collars, Dirty Talk, F/M, Light BDSM, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:43:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3450905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anysia/pseuds/Anysia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna’s always been the adventurous sort, and Kristoff can’t help but meet her halfway. (Modern AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	We May

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kristanna Smut Week Day #1, "Roses are Red". It's only tangentially related, but hey, it was a chance to write some really kinky smut (by Frozen fandom standards, anyway).

The snow is a soft whisper around him as Kristoff angles his truck into the winding driveway, headlights sweeping over the trees swaying in the wind and the silent, solid form of his cabin set back from the road.

 

There’s a tendril of smoke curling from the stone chimney, and he raises an eyebrow as he shuts off the ignition, tugs the worn flannel of his collar up against the cold and climbs down from the truck. Fresh snow crunches under the thick soles of his boots as he makes his way up the snowy pathway, the faint glow of the porch light just barely illuminating the small compact parked at a haphazard angle further up the driveway.

 

He’s exhausted from work (another long day at the park, surveying snowy mountain paths and catching wayward hikers stranded by the incoming squalls), but Kristoff can’t help but smile to himself as he glances at the car ( _her_ car) and fishes in his pocket for his house keys.

 

His smile widens as the door opens under his hand, just a little, and he steps inside.

 

"Hey," he says quietly, dusting snowflakes off his shoulders and glancing up. "You didn’t say you were…"

 

Kristoff’s breath dies in his throat, on his lips as he takes in the scene before him — candles burning brightly from the countertops in the small kitchenette, on the small dining room table. The air is thickly perfumed with roses, long-stemmed and full-blossomed, set in a large vase next to the morning paper on the coffee table.

 

Kristoff silently tugs off his boots, lets them fall with a heavy _thump_ to the floor as he moves to examine the roses, runs his calloused fingertips over velvet petals, eyes narrowed slightly in confusion.

 

_What is she…_

 

There’s a flash then, a shadow, and he sees the door to his bedroom open invitingly, sees the glow of candlelight just beyond the doorway.

 

He follows it, a moth to flame, padding barefoot down the short hallway and reaching with one hand to push the door open fully.

 

There, on the bed, bathed in candlelight, eyes darting up to his shyly through darkly-fringed eyelashes, is his beautiful Anna, naked and pale, sitting up on her knees, her hands resting over them, fingers pressed tight to the skin. Her hair is unbound around her shoulders, a fiery halo in the soft light, rose petals dusted on the sheets around her.

 

There’s a dark strip of something around her neck, snug but not too tight, and Kristoff’s heart hammers against his ribs as he recognizes, remembers.

 

"Hey," Anna says, bites her lip and wraps a tendril of hair around two fingers even as her free hand ghosts over the leather of the collar.

 

Kristoff swallows hard, hears it echo in the stillness of the room. “…hey,” he manages, not moving from the doorway, and he can’t find a safe place to rest his eyes as they skim over her pale, slim fingers toying with the leather, her nipples peaked and rosy in the coolness of the night, and he’s already hard and aching for her.

 

"What are you doing?" he manages, and it sounds harsher than he means it to but Anna just smiles, tilts her head a little and leans forward.

 

"Surprising you," Anna says. "Remember?"

 

And he does, suddenly, remembers earlier in the winter, when a storm had swept in from the west and buried the cabin in a foot and a half of snow and Anna had curled warmly into his arms as they rode out the worst of it together.

 

Mostly they’d cuddled, kissed, queued up bad movies and didn’t really watch them through a haze of searching tongues and wandering hands.

 

Until one night, halfway through a bottle of wine, half-drunk and half-hard even as Anna yawned and rested against his shoulder, Kristoff had borrowed her laptop, resting innocuously on the coffee table, to check his e-mail instead of wandering into the bedroom to retrieve his phone.

 

Anna had woken with a sharp yelp, sliding from his embrace even as the screen flickered to life and her latest browser search splashed across it.

 

The room was deathly silent for a long moment as Kristoff stared, and stared, and stared.

 

Anna flushed crimson, grabbed the well-worn throw from the couch and quickly swaddled herself in it. “…you didn’t see anything,” she managed, voice muffled and wine-slurred, “you didn’t see _anything_ , just forget it, it’s _fine_ , I was just curious, it’s… it’s nothing at all, I promise, _please_ don’t think I’m weird…”

 

Kristoff was quiet, still staring at the list of items in front of him, the pictures… and Anna’s hesitantly-worded comments in an open Notepad document.

 

"I want it so much sometimes," he’d read, unconsciously shifting in his seat as he did, "I want _him_ so much. To just… _do_ things. Everything. To just hold me down and _take_ me.”

 

He took a deep breath and gently nudged Anna’s swaddled form with his foot.

 

"Do you want to, then?" he asked finally.

 

Anna peeked out from the blanket, blinking owlishly at him. “…really?” she asked, voice a hesitant whisper.

 

Kristoff glanced back to the screen, to the various accoutrements that had seemingly caught Anna’s eye, picturing her red-lipped and desirous in them, her eyes dark and pleading as she stared up at him…

 

"…yeah," he said, swallowing hard. "Yeah."

 

Anna had smiled slowly, and after a long moment, had let the blanket fall from her shoulders.

 

Staring at her now, at her pale, bared curves, Kristoff can’t believe that he’s forgotten, forgotten Anna curling up in his arms as they talked quietly, weighed their options and finally purchased just a few things, just the ones that most caught her interest, piqued her curiosity. “One day soon,” she’d said, a mischievous glint in her eye as she leaned over and palmed his growing erection through his sweatpants. “Soon.”

 

"Remember?" Anna asks him again, and he does, remembers Anna’s quiet little murmurs of admiration as he added the collar to his shopping cart, remembers how she’d pushed his hands into her hair and rolled her hips back against him as he fucked her on the couch not long after.

 

"…yes," Kristoff manages. He takes a deep breath and raises his eyebrows as he moves to pull his jacket off, silently asking permission to continue, because god help him, Anna is still his beautiful princess and he’ll never hurt her, never.

 

Unless it’s what she wants.

 

_How_ she wants.

 

Anna’s eyes meet his, and his heart beats faster as she nods, licks her lips and smiles at him, bashful but strong, so strong and _ready_.

 

Kristoff tries to hide the tremor in his hands as he keeps his eyes on hers and lets his jacket fall to the floor. “Up,” he says, the word steady and firm even though he’s not so sure he is when Anna primly, demurely rises to her feet, casts her eyes downward.

 

"Eyes on me. Hands behind your back."

 

Anna raises her gaze to meet his as she clasps her hands together behind her back. The gesture pushes her chest out, and Kristoff crooks a finger forward, watches as she moves towards him, as her eyes struggle to stay open when he splays his hands, warm and wide, over her breasts.

 

"Good girl," he murmurs, stroking his thumbs firmly over her nipples.

 

"…thank you," she says quietly.

 

She pauses before adding, “…sir.”

 

The word seems to shoot straight to his cock, and the sight of Anna’s pink tongue wetting her lips doesn’t help much.

 

_Control,_ Kristoff tells himself, willing his heartbeat to steady. _That’s what she wants. You can do this._

 

He plucks his fingers at the front of his T-shirt, reaches out one hand to cup Anna’s chin and tilt her gaze up to meet his. “Take this off,” he says, voice low and husky.

 

It’s an off-the-cuff decision (he’s never done this before, he doesn’t really know how or what or really even _why_ but it’s _Anna_ and that’s all he’ll ever need, in so, so many ways), but Kristoff decides it’s a good one when he feels Anna’s small hands sliding up under his belt, under the hem of his shirt and ghosting along his abdomen. She has to stand on tiptoe as he raises his arms, and he feels the length of her body, hot and smooth and bare, all along his chest as she pulls his T-shirt up and off.

 

Anna is breathing hard, her eyes dark, and the back of her hand just barely brushes against him through his jeans before he catches it in his, holding fast.

 

"I don’t remember giving you permission for that," Kristoff says, stroking two fingers up along her sternum, over the ridge of her collarbone, slipping beneath the collar and pulling her close to him, close enough to kiss.

 

"I’m sorry, sir," Anna says, a touch breathlessly, and there’s a wildness and brightness to her eyes as he leans down and kisses her, all teeth and tongue, tugging at her lips and biting down against the soft flesh.

 

"You’re being a bad girl, aren’t you."

 

"…yes," Anna says against his lips, voice and breath hitching as Kristoff slips his free hand down between her legs, and his eyes widen as his fingers slip deeply into her wetness at the slightest press. She’s tight and hot around him, almost dripping with desire, and she bites back a moan as he curls his fingers forward and lightly thrusts them in and out of her.

 

"…and bad girls need to be punished, don’t they?" Anna whimpers in protest as Kristoff withdraws his fingers suddenly, laying another quick, harsh kiss against her lips. His arms wind tight around her waist, hands curving over her backside and kneading the flesh beneath his fingertips.

 

"On the bed. All fours," he murmurs against her. "Spread yourself. I want to see you."

 

The words are dirty and lascivious as they fall from his lips, but Anna’s eyes are dark and desirous as they briefly flick up to his before she falls to hand and knee on the bed, taking a deep breath and spreading her cheeks wide.

 

Kristoff’s breath and heartbeat seem to freeze as he observes the rounded jewel against her backside, and his eyes widen even as he curiously, hesitantly strokes his fingertips over it. Anna draws in a sharp breath and presses back against him, and he’s not sure he’s breathing as he takes it between thumb and forefinger.

 

"…I don’t remember buying this," Kristoff says, and it’s breaking character, just a little, but he’s not sure he cares and he’s pretty damn certain Anna doesn’t as he slowly, agonizingly slowly pulls the plug out of her a fraction, slick with lubricant and glinting jewel-bright in the candlelight.

 

"…I did," Anna manages, and he can see her palms pressing harder against the bed, watches her spine arch as he twists it back into her, thrusting slowly, so slowly and shallowly. "It’s… it’s called a princess plug."

 

"…I see," Kristoff says softly, and he can’t help but watch, utterly rapt as she presses back against him, circles her hips and fucks herself harder. "I wish I would have known my princess wanted this."

 

He settles the plug into her, down to the base, and holds it there, wraps his free hand around her hip and holds her steady.

 

"You like this, don’t you," he says. It’s not a question.

 

"I…" Anna manages, and he hears her draw a shaky breath as she tosses her head back. "I like whatever you want. Whatever you do to me."

 

"Like?" Kristoff asks lightly, stroking his fingers down to her wetness and just barely stroking over her opening.

 

“ _Love_ ,” Anna gasps, arching up. “I love you, Kristoff, I love you _so much_ …”

 

She cries out as he ducks his head, slides his tongue against her even as his fingertips just barely ghost inside before retreating.

 

"Tell me what you want, princess," Kristoff says, leaning back, undoing his belt and roughly shoving his jeans to the floor in two quick motions.

 

"…I want it," Anna says breathlessly, pressing back and rubbing against him as he grips her hips in his hands and spreads her open for him.

 

"What do you want?" he asks, and he can hear the rough, desire-heavy tremor in his voice as he nudges the head of his cock against her, as he moves one hand from around her hip and presses his thumb against the plug held tightly within her.

 

"…fuck me," Anna gasps, fingers clenching tight in the bedsheets. "Please, just fuck me."

 

Her voice fades into a sharp, high cry as Kristoff twists his hips and fills her, smooth and deep, holding himself within her for a long moment before beginning to thrust.

 

Anna’s head is thrown back against her shoulders as he rocks into her, and he moves one hand from around her hip, curves it around the back of her neck, fingers twisting lightly against the collar.

 

"Am I your princess?" he hears Anna ask, voice breathless and uneven, and she presses one hand against the headboard, braces herself as he fucks her into the mattress.

 

"…you’re my everything," Kristoff manages, pressing his chest to her back and holding her down to the bed.

 

When Anna reaches back blindly and twines her fingers with his, he doesn’t protest, just ducks his head against her shoulder and thrusts harder.

 

She’s tight and hot and smooth around him, so tight and wet, and he can feel his body tightening, can feel release curling hot at the base of his spine, and he leans up, bites down against the shell of Anna’s ear.

 

"In or out?" Kristoff breathes rather than asks, the words ghosting over her.

 

"In," Anna says desperately, rocking back against him. "In, Kristoff, _in_.”

 

"Do you want it?"

 

“ _Yes_.”

 

"What do you want?" he pants, and he’s wrapped tight around her, moving down to bite down against her nape, holding her to him, wild and brutal.

 

"…I want your cum," she manages, holding him to her, and he reaches, blind but practiced, down to stroke in a desperate caress against her clit. "Oh God… _Kristoff._.. give it to me… _please_ …”  

 

There’s something deep and primal burning within his chest, and he’s not sure he can fuck her harder but he _tries_ , and there’ll be bruises on her backside and his thighs in the morning but he can’t help it, she’s _his_.

 

"You want it?" Kristoff gasps, and he’s so close, dammit, he’s so close, and he reaches to curve his free hand around the flat plane of her belly. "You’re going to look so beautiful dripping with it, Anna, you’re going to be so _beautiful_ carrying my children, your breasts and belly so swollen and heavy and you’ll always remember, _you’ll always remember just who gave it to you_ …”

 

One final press of his fingers and Anna cries out, arches sharply against him, and Kristoff’s eyes roll back as he presses as deeply into her as he can, filling her with his release until he slumps against her, breathing hard, back drenched with sweat.

 

For a long, long moment, the room seems to echo with their breathing, until there’s a quiet, whispered “ _heavy_ " from beneath him, and Kristoff’s eyes widen as he raises himself up on his elbows, glances down at Anna lying beneath him.

 

"…sorry," he manages, stroking one hand down along her back, sweat-damp from exertion (hers or his, he can’t even tell), and he slowly withdraws himself from her. "Here, hang on."

 

Kristoff reaches down, retrieves his discarded T-shirt and wipes it over her, cleaning his release from her as best he can. “Kristoff?” Anna asks curiously, glancing to him over her shoulder.

 

"Never liked that shirt anyway," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her backside and grinning as she squirms. "Okay, now take a deep breath and relax, okay?"

 

Anna nods, breathes, and her shoulders fall as he gingerly eases the plug out of her. “Good girl,” he says quietly, gently massaging her reddened flesh. “My good, beautiful girl.”

 

Anna winces a little as she flips onto her back and stares at him, folding her arms self-consciously over her chest. “…hi,” she says, offering him a shy smile, glancing up at him through her eyelashes.

 

Kristoff’s returning smile is soft as he strokes Anna’s sweat-slicked hair away from her forehead and gathers her up in his arms, one hand flicking open the clasp at the back of her collar and setting it aside before stroking over the reddened marks along her throat. “Hey,” he says softly, following his fingers with his lips, laying gentle kisses over her skin.

 

"…was…" Anna asks quietly, snuggling close, "was it… was _I_ …”

 

"You were wonderful," Kristoff says, holding her away from him just a fraction and carefully inspecting her body, tilting her head this way and that, kissing every exposed inch of skin in his line of sight. "Was I…" He hesitates, gently strokes her hair. "Anna, I didn’t… I didn’t hurt you, did I? Because if I did, I promise I will _never_ …”

 

Anna smiles at him, leans up to press her lips to his in a soft kiss. “I’m okay,” she says, and her eyes are bright and shining with love in the candlelight as she stares up at him. “I’m great, actually. That was… that was _really_ fun.”

 

"…it was, wasn’t it." Kristoff pulls her to him, tucks her head beneath his chin and strokes her back. "God… I love you so much, Anna."

 

"I love you, too. And… thank you."

 

"Anything for you," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "Always."

 

"Mm," Anna sighs sleepily, curling closer to him. "In that case, I could really use a shower right about now, but I’m feeling a little too afterglow-y to walk to the bathroom…"

 

She laughs as Kristoff rises, hoisting her easily into his arms and dipping her down for a kiss before carrying her into the hallway. “Your shower’s big enough for two, right?” Anna asks mischievously.

 

"I guess we’re about to find out." Kristoff hesitates as he nudges open the bathroom door. "Anna… about that… that last bit, right before…" He coughs, self-consciously. "You… you _are_ on the Pill, right? Because I’m not saying that I don’t want… well, I mean, not right _now_ , but someday… but… you know…”

 

Anna leans up, drapes her arms over his shoulders and kisses him. “I am,” she confirms, lightly brushing her nose with his. “But someday…” A light blush blooms across her cheeks, but she smiles. “…I think we’re going to have a lot of fun trying.”

 

Kristoff grins at her as he carries her into the bathroom and shuts the door.


End file.
